


My Heart Will Go On

by under_the_dork_tree



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Titanic (1997)
Genre: F/M, Implied abuse, Mild Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_the_dork_tree/pseuds/under_the_dork_tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every ship needs their cheesy, secondhand embarrassment inducing Titanic spin-off fic. I'm just here to deliver. In which Butch is the poor, charming third classman (played by Leonardo DiCaprio) and the Lone Wanderer (whose name is Adele) is a stuck-up rich girl who, in the end, isn't so stuck up after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart Will Go On

**Author's Note:**

> I finished the first chapter and it's honestly not as embarrassing as it will get to be eventually.... there are a few parts that are ridiculous though. Majority of this was written at about midnight over a period of about four nights so it also probably sucks. I also changed a lot of movie canon to keep it interesting, I'm also prob going to make harkness seem like a pretty chill guy bc i love him too much to make him an actual meanie but we'll see you know 
> 
> also thanks to tumblr user fallout-enthusiast for giving me the idea to use harkness as whoever billy zane's character was
> 
> I'M SO SORRY ABOUT THIS

Butch never thought he’d make it here. He had to take in the sight of it all, had to compose himself after he realized he was getting on that thing. He was going to America. He was doing it.

He was a sight for sore eyes in the crowd of flowered bonnets and waistcoats. Him and Paul got a few dirty looks in their direction (especially Paul. Poor kid couldn’t help the color of his skin. Hell, he liked himself just the way he was, he just wished other people did, too.) Butch hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and smiled back at them all smugly. He wasn’t one to take shit.

"Things fucking enormous, Pauly," Butch nudged his friends arm with his shoulder and grinned at him. "Can hardly believe I’m gonna be sleepin’ in something so giant."

Paul nodded, clutching his bag to his chest and letting his eyes trail along the boat. The kids smile screamed wanderlust and his eyes were lighting up like one of them Christmas trees Butch saw through windows in December. He was proud of himself for bringing Pauly along. The boy was like his brother, or maybe something even closer than that. Paul had connected himself to Butch’s hip for years.

A loud horn erupted through the air, almost enough to make Butch feel like his ear drums would pop. “Ah, shit,” He scratched the back of his head, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled hair. He usually kept his hair nice, it was just kind of a quirk of his, but today was a special occasion. He looked a lot less shabby then usual, and he prided himself on that. “We gotta run, kiddo. Or we’re gonna miss the most important moment in our lives!” Butch grabbed Paul’s wrist and pulled him along, pushing through the crowd eagerly.

—-  
They emerged on the upper deck almost as soon as they ran through boarding. Paul was shorter than Butch so he stood on the railing, and Butch grinned down below them. Paul was throwing his hands in the air and shouting absolute gibberish while Butch lit a cigarette, tossing the match into the water below them.

"Crazy, huh?" a voice came from beside them, and an arm was thrown over Butch’s shoulders. "Never thought you’d be above so many rich people in your lifetime."

The guy currently invading Butch’s space looked about his age or older, and his hair stuck up like a frightened cat. He had a sly grin on his face and eyes that looked devilish, so Butch took a liking to him immediately.

"Names Wally," The man said matter of factly, sticking a hand out to shake. "And you are?"

"Butch Deloria," there was pride in Butch’s voice, and it was written all over his face too. "And this here’s Paul Hannon jr."

"Nice to meet you, mister Deloria," Wally grinned, but Butch’s focus was elsewhere. Specifically on the woman standing on the deck above them, a black bonnet shielding her eyes. He had to squint to see her well enough, after all, the sun was so bright. She had blonde hair that looked professionally curled by someone other than herself, and her dress looked ridiculously thick for the warm weather. Despite her elegant way of dress, she leaned over the railing rather sloppily. Her chin rested on her palm and her back arched forward, and there was a disappointed look on her face.

"Ah, all those rich prudes think this boat ain’t big enough for ‘em," Wally waved his hand in the air dismissively and sighed. "Good luck pleasing her, I’ll tell ya’," he chuckled to himself and skimmed the girl as well.

The girl must have caught glance of Butch staring, because her frown turned into a slight grin. Butch returned it, tripping on his own feet and sending her a small wave. She laughed at him, but it looked genuine. God, she was pretty. How did those rich girls get so pretty?

"Hey?" Wally waved a hand in front of Butch’s face, and Paul was tapping his shoulder. Butch zoned back in when the girl walked away, though. She was pulled off by an older man with grey hair. He looked like he was in a hurry.

"Butch," Paul grabbed his friends shoulder and shook him.

"Oh, uh… what?" Butch looked at him as though nothing had even happened.

"Listen, Butchie," Wally intercepted. "There’re lots of rich girls on this ship. That was just one of ‘em. Don’t get your hopes up, buddy."

Butch laughed softly and nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Yeah… right, right.”

——

"Too tight," the girl frowned. She waved her hand to her mother dismissively and stepped away from her, trying to breath in at least a little air.

"Beauty comes with a price," her mother frowned.

"It’s a price I’d like not to pay, if it denies me my right of air," she sighed and ruffled her hair. "I don’t want to go to this party tonight, mom."

"Too bad," her mother stood from her chair and placed her hands on the sides of her daughters face. "Adele, sweetheart… don’t you want a husband? Don’t you want money?"

"Could I choose between the two?"

"Fortunately, they come as a package," her mother grinned.

Adele looked displeased. “Then I’d rather have neither.”

Her mother frowned and stepped away from her, her hands on her hips. She scanned her up and down a few times and shook her head. “I don’t understand you, Adele. You’re beautiful and charming, but you simply cannot act like a woman.”

"Maybe," Adele crossed her arms and pouted. "Maybe I act perfectly like a woman, just a woman who does not wish to be in a loveless marriage."

"Love is unimportant. Money is what matters," her mother reminded her, a pointed finger in the air.

Adele rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Will you just loosen this a little and allow me to get into my dress?”

—-

Butch couldn’t decide if he had a good or bad day.

His and Paul’s bunks were shabby, but better than the streets. Their room was shared with a man and a small girl. The guy was an older man, and he had a big old scar over his eye, made him look kind of gnarly. Despite that, he was kind of exuberant. He talked with his hands and smiled too much. Butch didn’t like him much. He was pretty sure his name was Creel or something. Billy Creel.

The little girl with him was an orphan of sorts. She was a sweetheart, and she clung to Billy like he was life support. She was Maggie Creel. She couldn’t have been more than ten.

The room they slept in was completely white, and pipes ran through it. The beds were stiff and tiny, Paul could hardly fit in his along with all his stuff.

Butch needed some hair, so he waited for Paul to doze off and snuck up to the deck to smoke.

He tossed his match into the dark blue below them and leaned on the railing. The sound of the propeller was something of s loud humming against the silence of the empty deck, so filled with life earlier. He didn’t like being alone, though. It gave him too much time to think.

Luckily for him, he wasn’t alone for. He heard heels clacking against the stairs behind him and spun around, letting the cigarette dangle from his lower lip.

It was sort of hard to make out the girl taking down her hair on the other side of the deck letting golden locks flow in the cool night breeze. She looked distressed to say the least, and she was visibly shaking.

The girl put her head in her hands and sobbed for a moment. Butch assumed she didn’t see him, so he put out his cigarette and sat down to avoid any attention.

Her heels were soon kicked off, and her expensive looking dress hiked up as she stepped up on the railing. Butch’s eyebrow raised and he stood, deciding that this girl was about to do something dumb, and he’d be the one to stop her.

"Hey, missus," he chimed, waving his hand at her.

The girl noticed him and fear washed over her face. She said nothing, just froze.

"Uhm… lady?"

"What?" the girl spat at him, taking another step up.

"Couldn’t help but notice that you’re sort of crying your pretty little eyes out over here."

She swallowed and shifted her eyes from him to the water below, being churned by the colossal propeller. It made her upset to her stomach. “Yes,” she nodded. “and I don’t need you to intervene.”

"No offense, sweetheart but from the looks of it, you do."

"You’re a rude one, aren’t you?" She scowled, her foot shaking.

"Not rude," he shrugged, lighting another cigarette. "Just… concerned."

“Take your concern elsewhere, then. I don’t need it.”

Butch chuckled and offered her a cancer stick, to which she refused. “You got a funny way of talkin’, you know that?”

"Well… so do you," she pouted.

"I do? Huh, never would’ve thought. I’m so used to the way I talk, after all. Ain’t that funny? You don’t even realize some of the odd things you do, but when other people act differently, yo-"

"What is your point?" she frowned.

"Nothin’, really. Just stalling ya."

"Well I’ve had enough of that. Go, so I can die in peace, without needing to hear your yammering."

"Sheesh, sister, what’s got you so frosty?" Butch frowned, blowing smoke from his lips. He was a natural at making it look cool.

"I’m not frosty," she cried defensively.

"Well, maybe not, but if you jump into that water you will be," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"What do you mean?"

"Water’s damn near negative 30 degrees on a good night. You’ll freeze."

"That was my intention," she sighed, taking another step up.

"What’s got you like this, huh? Your mommy not buy you the diamond earrings you wanted, or what?"

She scoffed at him. “Don’t assume things of me, mister- um, mister….”

"Deloria." Butch grinned, sticking a hand out to shake. "Butch Deloria. Call me Butch, though."

"Mister Deloria," she mocked, then smiled faintly. "Sounds nice. I’m Adele Paralecki."

"Paralecki, hey? You’ll need to write that down for me."

She smiled a little wider then sighed. “Oh, look at me. Dumb rich girl who wants to jump off a boat. What the hell, mr. Deloria, I’ll come down.”

She took his hand and smiled at him, beginning to step back over to the safe side of the railing. She slipped, though, making her scream and Butch hold her hand for support. She loosely gripped the side of the boat with one hand, and clung to Butch’s forearm with the other, shrieking for help.

"Christ, Adele! Ya gotta pull yourself up!"

"I can’t! I-" she looked below her and immediately gained some incentive, but hardly enough. "Butch! Help!"

"Give me a damn second, would ya!? Pull!" Butch was panicking. It wasn’t as if she were too heavy. It was mostly Butch’s own frailty. He was skin and bones, hardly enough to pull 130 pounds back onto a boat.

"Look at me, Adele," he recomposed himself enough to say. Her deafening fear distracted her, though, so he said it louder. "Adele! Look at me!"

Her head snapped upwards from the icy blue of the water and she stared hopelessly at him. “Adele, pull up with all you’ve got, okay? I need you to try!”

She hesitated, pulling on his arm. She dangled for a few more seconds before Butch had gotten her back to the railing, where he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her over himself.

"Jesus," he huffed, out of breath. "That was intense."

She was shivering on the deck floor, so he knelt down and took off his jacket. She just stared when he offered it to her, so he slung it over her shoulders himself. She smiled faintly and nodded at him gratefully then continued shaking.

More footsteps came down the stairs and Butch stood up quickly and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Two men and a woman arrived, all of them looking fairly rich and bigoted themselves. They frowned at him and lifted Adele off the floor, to which she pushed them away.

"She almost fell off the damn boat," Butch shouted hysterically. "She was gonna j-"

"I was looking at the propeller’s," she explained to the people crowding her.

"Dammit, Adele," one of them frowned, yanking the jacket off her shoulders and examining it. "You know you’re a klutz. You shouldn’t be doing those things."

"I’m sorry, Harkness," she sighed, her eyes hitting the finished wood of the Titanic’s floor. "You know it fascinates me, though."

He took her by her shoulder and pulled her to the side, probably lecturing her about ‘being lady-like and not doing stupid things.’ He looked like a fucking prick, and his act certainly hadn’t convinced Butch otherwise.

The man who came down the steps with the Harkness guy passed Butch a twenty, and mumbled something about “it being sufficient enough for lower class like him,” to the man next to them. Adele had probably seen this, though, because she brushed past Harkness and approached him.

"Come to dinner with us, tomorrow," she smiled.

"Um," Butch raised an eyebrow. "Well, I would and everything, but I don’t really have the um… the money."

She waved her hand dismissively. “Please, I insist. We’ll pay for you.”

"Adele, that’s not a good idea," Harkness intercepted.

Butch’s head hurt. Everyone was complaining and speaking over each other after Adele brought up dinner, and he sort of just wanted to walk away. Adele seemed to be the only consistent one, and eventually she shouted “Please!” over them and everyone stared in her direction.

"He’s coming with, whether you all like it or not," her words were sharp and concise, and she crossed her arms with them.

Harkness sighed and pulled out a cigarette. “Fine. He’ll come,” he rolled his eyes and directed his attention to Butch. “6:30 tomorrow night. I hope that sounds good to you. Your rags aren’t going to be formal enough, so see Moira about that, she’s got some clothes she could borrow you.”

"Oh- uh, thanks, man. See you then," Butch nodded and stuck out a hand for him to shake. He didn’t take it, instead leaving with his crew. He must’ve assumed Adele would follow, but she faced him and grinned instead.

"I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister Deloria." she waved. "Thank you."

Butch found himself grinning as she walked off, her dress flowing in the cool breeze. He couldn’t really describe how he was feeling. It was sort of like when he was in school and the prettiest girl in class would pick up his pencil for him and smile. He felt warm, and his legs were kinda shaky. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and paced the entirety of the deck until he was aimlessly wandering in a blissful sleepy trance straight towards his bed. There was something about that girl.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sorry
> 
> i'll try to update regularly if people actually read this shit so please tell me if u like it :)


End file.
